


Escape From Sing Sing

by Treon



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, Gen, Prison, Trust, White Collar Reverse Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4001086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, set pre-Pilot. Neal and Keller both ended up in Sing Sing, but they didn't plan on staying there for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [citrinesunset](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/gifts).



> Inspired by Citrinesunset's artwork (http://archiveofourown.org/works/4003165). Written for the 2nd round of the White Collar Reverse Big Bang.

(for more art, see  [art master post](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4003165))

 

 

It was a warm spring day at Sing Sing and the prisoners were outside in the yard. Most were flexing their muscles or playing ball. Matthew Keller, however, was sitting by one of the picnic tables at the far side of the yard, deeply engrossed in a chess game.

He looked up only briefly when Neal slipped into the opposing bench.

Neal glanced at the board. "How's the game going?"

"I'm winning." Keller and Neal used to play every day, but for the past month the two prisoners had been planning their escape, and they had made a point of not hanging out together.

Neal waited until Keller made his move. "Bobby says that there's a group of new guards coming in tomorrow. So tomorrow's the day."

This caught Keller's attention. "Tomorrow?"

Neal nodded, then scratched at his scraggly beard.

Keller chuckled, pulling at his own beard. "Tomorrow you're going to miss that beard." He turned the board around and started considering his next move.

Neal just shook his head. Half turning around, he took a good look round the exercise yard. The gangs, the guards, the bleak, high concrete walls, the watchtowers around them. He was not going to miss any of this.

He turned back to Keller. The man's hand hovered over the board as he considered his options. "I was thinking we'd go after breakfast." That was usually the busiest time. Prisoners were coming and going and it would be easier to slip away.

"Sounds good to me." Keller looked up. "Cheer up, man. Tomorrow we're going to be playing a game on a beach in the Caribbeans, sipping our pina coladas."

Neal shook his head. "Not me. I've got some things I need to take care of first."

Keller considered him for a moment. "You think you'll find Kate?"

"I'm sure of it," Neal said with conviction. He didn't dare think about any other possibility. Not now.

Keller shrugged. If Neal wanted to waste his time on Kate, that was his problem. "Tomorrow after breakfast."

Neal nodded, and finished the sentence: "Tomorrow, we walk out of here."

Keller put out his hand, and Neal grabbed it. "Good luck to both of us."

*****

That night Neal lay on his cot, in the darkness of his cell. His cell. It had taken him close to a month to get used to the sound of those two words. But like everything else around here, he got used to it.

It had been home for close to four years now. His daily countdown on the wall was taking up half the wall by now. Lines and lines, every day dutifully recorded in blank ink. He had only three months to go until he was a free man. His only problem was that he couldn't wait that long.

When he first entered Sing Sing, he wasn't sure he could make it. The nights were the worse. Hundreds of men around him, groans and moans and every so often shouts and yells. But he got used to that too.

In fact, he barely noticed it anymore.

With a long, long sigh, he sat up on the bed, his feet feeling the cement floor.

A month ago, Kate had told him it was over. No prior warning, he hadn't seen it coming. Neal knew that something was wrong. She didn't tell him _why_ she had to go, maybe she _couldn't_ tell him, but he could see it in her eyes.

Keller had cautioned him against making a break for it. 'Wait it out and you'll be free,' he'd said, 'then you can find her". But Neal couldn't think of anything else but Kate.

Keller had said Neal was being too impulsive. But he also wanted in. 'If you run, we both run,' he'd said.

It had taken them a whole month to put Neal's escape plan into motion. Neal loved it, he was finally getting back into the con - getting fake uniforms and IDs for both him and Keller, growing out their beards and hair. But the excitement and the rush were tempered by the knowledge that Kate was gone.

He got up, making his way to his little desk, and quickly located Kate's last letter. He didn't need to read it. He had read it so many times by now, he knew it by heart. He just needed something tangible from her, something he could hold, breath in. Holding her letter, he could feel her fingers touching the page, her lips kissing it.

Tomorrow, he'll hold her in his arms again. He just hoped he wasn't too late.

*****

The next morning, Neal stood by the door of his cell, waiting for it to open. The guards had already passed by his cell for the morning count. Five more minutes and he'll be out of here. Forever.

But just before the door opened, two guards appeared by his cell. Brent and Steve. They were generally alright.

Neal put up his shiniest smile. "Good morning."

But the two didn't smile back. "Step out," Brent ordered as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Neal's smile wavered. "What's going on, guys?"

"Step out."

"Come on, I-"

The guard quickly lost his patience. "You either step out, or you're ending up in solitary."

Neal stepped out. Steve produced handcuffs chained to leg-cuffs.

Neal stood silently as the guard secured his hands and then his legs. He didn't like where this was going at all. "What about breakfast?"

"That's the least of your worries right now." Steve double-checked the handcuffs. "Don't turn around," he said, and then the two guards entered his cell.

Neal could hear them behind him, moving things around. He resisted the urge to turn and look. The last thing he needed right now was to get thrown into solitary for getting on a guard's wrong side.

He wondered what Keller was going to do when he didn't show up. He hoped he'd push the break-out for another day.

The guards were busy inside and the minutes were ticking by. He could just walk off, or slip the cuffs and make a run for it. But it was too risky.

 

And then the alarm klaxons went off. Beep! Beep! Beep!

The guards inside his cell cursed and soon he was being pushed back inside. "Wait!" Neal held up his shackled hands. "What about-"

Brent pulled the door shut and the two ran off.

"Great."

Neal looked round his cell. The guards had been searching the place, opening up everything he had. He was supposed to be out free. Instead he was stuck here still cuffed. His mattress and pillow had been stripped and pushed aside. With a sigh, he set about the task of putting things back in order.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter was sitting in the surveillance van, doodling on a notepad. It was a boring day. When his phone rang, he hoped it was news of a museum heist. That would be interesting. "Yeah."

"Boss." It was Diana on the line.

"What do you got?"

Diana wasn't one to chit-chat. "Just got a call from Sing Sing. Matthew Keller escaped."

"What?!" Peter's fingers tightened round his pen. "How?"

"They say he just walked out the front door."

It had taken him two years to catch the bastard. The guy had barely finished a year off his 20 year sentence. And now he was out. "Unbelievable."

"They want you to come up and help them out."

"I bet they do," Peter mumbled.

Diana laughed in his ear. "Should I come pick you up?"

*****

Peter's efforts had sent a few criminals to Sing Sing, but he'd never been in the prison himself.

The warden, Haskley, led the way past rows of cells. Two guards followed behind. The prisoners were all inside following the escape attempt. Most were leaning on the bars, watching with interest as the group passed by. A few catcalls were thrown their way, but nothing serious. Peter assumed that nobody really wanted to mess with the warden.

Even so, and despite the fact that he made a good show of not showing it, walking past the prisoners was unnerving. There was a hum to the place. A tension that Peter could feel in his bones. Every step he took, he knew dozens, if not hundreds, of eyes were following him.

It was almost a relief when the warden finally stopped by one of the cells, checked his notebook and then nodded to one of the guards accompanying them. "This is Keller's cell," he said, and motioned Peter in.

The cell was completely empty. No personal effects that Peter could see, nothing hanging on the walls. "You cleaned it up?" Peter asked.

"Nope." Haskley looked around with a frown and Peter wondered how often the warden made the rounds in his prison. "This is how we found it."

Peter nodded. "So he didn't expect to stay here for long. He must have been planning this the day he came in." Knowing Keller, it didn't surprise Peter.

He made a cursory examination inside the cell, but there was nothing to see. There wasn't much more he could learn here. "I'd like to see Keller's file."

*****

Ten minutes later, he was seated in one of the prison offices, examining the escapee's file.

There wasn't much there either.

The file contained exactly one page. A picture taken the day Keller arrived in Sing Sing, basic personal info, the crime for which he was convicted.

"He was generally quiet, didn't make any trouble," the warden said. One of the guards brought in two mugs of steaming coffee and placed them on the desk.

"I bet." The guy was planning on escaping, he wouldn't want to draw attention to himself. Peter turned the page over. It was blank.

Peter's mind raced through the options. "Where do you have cameras?"

Haskley chuckled. "Almost everywhere. Interested in anything specific?"

*****

"I'd like to see all the footage for the past 24 hours."

The warden's smile faded slightly. "Everything?"

"That's right."

"Sure, I'll have it sent up."

Peter spent the next three hours going through video footage. He had started off with Keller's escape. The man had grown a beard and Peter had trouble recognizing him. He'd entered a staff bathroom and came out, clean-shaved and dressed as a guard. From there, Peter went backwards in time, moving from one video to the next as he followed his target around. Keller leaving his cell that morning, Keller's cell throughout the night (he didn't seem to sleep much), Keller entering his cell the previous night, Keller in the dining hall, Keller in the rec hall, Keller in the yard.

The guy pretty much kept to himself.

Except...

Out there in the yard, Keller was sitting by a table, playing chess with another convict. The game had ended with a handshake.

Peter squinted at the grainy footage. The other man's back was towards the camera. The operator continued rewinding it, and Peter followed the game in reverse.

And there it was - at one point the man turned towards the yard, his face visible on the screen.

Peter blinked. "Stop right there."

The image of the two froze on the screen. "Go back just a few seconds."

The warden behind him leaned forward, staring at the screen. "Call in one of the guards," he ordered his lackey. "I want him ID'd".

"There's no need." Peter held up a hand. "I know him."

He had a beard on too, but Peter would know that face anywhere. He had chased this man halfway around the world. It had been his greatest catch, until he'd caught Keller.

The man who had shaken hands with Matthew Keller just a day before he escaped, was Neal Caffrey.


	3. Chapter 3

Neal was lying on his bunk, still cuffed, staring at the ceiling.

He had missed his opportunity. Deep down, he hadn't expected Keller to wait for him. But it had still surprised him when the alarms went off.

The prisoners had all been herded back to their cells. They weren't told why, though it was pretty obvious something big was going on. As much as the guards kept a stony face and refused to answer questions, Neal heard whispers of an escape.

So Keller had gone ahead with the plan. Neal didn't need the grapevine to know what was going on. The only question was whether he had succeeded.

Based on the length of time they were being kept in their cells - it was already two hours at least - he figured Keller had indeed managed to pull it off. Despite the fact that he was stuck here, he couldn't help but smile. Their plan had worked. Keller's success was his success, and he could at least enjoy the idea of pulling off such a stunt by proxy.

A guard stopped by his cell. Neal sat up. "Finally."

But the guard just motioned him to get up. "Caffrey. Let's go."

This wasn't good. Neal managed a quick smile. "Go where?"

The guard wasn't one of the talkative ones. Though Neal doubted it would have helped him right now. "Come on."

"Hey, Drake, what's going on?"

"You're wanted for interrogation." And before Neal could open his mouth to ask more, he added, "No more questions, Caffrey."

*****

The prison offered the regular interrogation rooms - table in the middle, chairs around it, one-way glass mirror covering one wall. Peter stood behind it, looking through the window as Neal was brought in. Haskley stood by his side.

The kid didn't look too bad, considering. Last time Peter had seen him, he was wearing a suit, now he was wearing an orange jumpsuit, his walking awkward due to the leg-irons. Then there was that bushy beard and unkempt hair.

The guard sat Neal down by the table, then cuffed Neal to the large, metal ring situated on its side.

A moment later, Peter entered the room, carrying a thick file under his arm. "Hello, Neal."

Neal's eyes widened in surprise, but being the consummate conman he was, he quickly recovered. "Peter." Neal flashed an easy grin. "It's been a while."

Peter didn't respond. Instead he motioned to the guard. "Remove the cuffs."

The guard started. "It's procedure," he protested.

"Do it."

The guard glanced at the mirror, knowing full well who was behind it. But seeing nobody come to his rescue, he quickly gave in, then took position by the door.

Once he removed his cuffs, Neal absent-mindedly rubbed his wrists. "Thanks."

Peter sat down across from him. "Don't thank me yet."

"If you're here to reciprocate for those birthday presents I sent you, you're a month late. Though-"

"I'm not here for a social call, Neal," Peter cut him off. "You helped Matthew Keller escape."

Neal frowned, his face a mask of innocence. "Who?"

Peter pulled out a photo, placing it in front of Neal. It was the picture of both men playing chess. "Matthew Keller. You helped him escape."

Neal glanced down at it, then back at Peter. The FBI man was sure that behind the calm facade, the wheels were turning very quickly. Neal didn't bother pretending he didn't know the guy this time. "That's a very interesting theory, but-"

"I can prove it," Peter cut him off again. "Enough to have you charged with aiding and abetting."

He could see Neal's smile slowly disappearing. Good.

"How much do you think you'll get for that?" Peter continued. "Another year, maybe two? I suppose the guards won't be so easy-going with you from now on."

Neal didn't respond.

"You both grew beards, you were both planning to escape. But you didn't."

The FBI agent watched the prisoner carefully, but Neal didn't bat an eye. He continued, "I think you know where Keller is heading."

"As I said," Neal replied easily enough, "it's an interesting theory."

Peter sighed. "Do you know why Keller was in prison?"

"Armed robbery."

"I guess that's one way of putting it." Peter opened up the file in front of him. It was Keller's file from the FBI. Unlike his prison file, it was a thick one. Peter flipped through it. He held up a picture. A mother, father and little girl. "He broke into a private residence. The robbery went bad, and he killed off an entire family."

Neal's jaw clenched.

"This girl was barely seven. I know you, Neal. You hate violence. You're not going to protect a murderer."

But that's exactly what Neal did. He looked the FBI agent straight in the eye. "I'm sorry, Peter, but I can't help you."

Peter had expected more from Neal. He signed. "Can't or won't?"

Neal shrugged. "Does it matter?"

*****

"Throw him in solitary, he'll talk." Peter was sitting with Warden Haskley in the latter's office. Peter had told the guards to take Caffrey back to his cell.

"Is that what you usually do?" Peter asked.

Haskley didn't seem to notice the implied criticism. Or, if he did, he just ignored it. "Every second that passes Keller's getting further away."

"I know Caffrey, and he's not going to talk just because you put the screws on him." Neal had his own type of moral code. If Peter wanted his help, he'd just have to crack it.

"No..." Peter continued. He had that unmistakable feeling in his gut. "We're missing something here."

*****  
Back in his cell, Neal couldn't shake the image of that little girl. He saw it even when he closed his eyes.

Peter just didn't get it. Everybody in this prison was there for horrible crimes. Almost everybody around Neal was a murderer or a rapist. You didn't end up in Sing Sing otherwise. Some of the guards weren't much better. They enjoyed abusing their authority.

Neal didn't like Keller. Outside, he had turned his back on his former partner. But inside things were different. Inside, you didn't rat out your enemies, much less your friends. Not if you wanted to live another day.

Ever since he was a little kid, Neal had learned to live off his wits. He had learned to read people, to figure out what they wanted and then use that to con them so he could get what _he_ wanted.

What he wanted in prison was to finish his four years and get out in one piece. And so he had set up the con of his life, and he had kept the delicate balance. He kept up good relations with everybody. With the Aryans and the Mexicans and the Blacks and the guards.

He had smiled at them all, and he had gotten along with them.

He didn't want to help a murderer, but from the moment he had stepped foot in Sing Sing, he really had no choice.


	4. Chapter 4

The escape plan itself was Neal's idea, Peter had no doubt about it. Neal's fingerprints were all over this. It was smart, slick, with a large helping of in your face.  
  
Not only that. Keller was going to be in prison for the next 20 years. Neal was going to be released in three months. Something had made him decide to try and escape. Keller was just coming along for the ride.  
  
If Peter could figure what that was, he'd be that much closer to catching Keller.  
  
So here he was, back in the security office, looking over security tapes. The prisoners were photographed every morning as they came out of their cells. All Peter had to do was look for the day that Neal stopped shaving.  
  
And there it was. One fine day in February, Neal had stopped shaving.  
  
"What happened, Neal?" Peter asked the still image on the screen. But Neal didn't answer.  
  
Nothing of particular significance had happened that day. Nothing special in the news, or in the prison's records.  
  
It was actually Haskley who suggested they check the visitor logs. "Sunday is visiting day," he said.  
  
Kate Moreau had come to visit Neal that day.  
  
Haskley pulled the tapes of that visit. It played out silently, but even without the audio Peter could see what made Neal escape.  
  
Kate said 'adios', and Neal started to plan his escape. Or rather, knowing Neal, he probably had the whole plan laid out. He'd had three whole years to think up ways of escaping. He just needed a good reason to execute it.  
  
Three months to go, and he would have been free. Peter couldn't understand why Neal would risk it all for a girl. Of course, Peter knew Neal had a weakness for this particular girl. He had used that weakness to catch him almost four years ago. But still.  
  
He glanced down at the visitor's log, at the line where Kate had signed her name. His eyes traveled up and down the page, and froze with surprise. He had found the missing link.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Neal looked at Peter warily as he was led back into the interrogation room. The FBI agent was sitting there, waiting. "I told you, Peter, I can't help you."  
  
Peter didn't say a word as the guard uncuffed Neal and stepped back.  
  
"After we caught Keller, he signed a plea deal."  
  
Neal couldn't see where Peter was going with this.  
  
"He should have been doing life, but instead he was sentenced to 20 years. I suspected that he had an accomplice, but I couldn't prove it, and once he copped a plea and signed a confession... well, nobody wanted to continue investigating what seemed like a dead end, and I had enough cases on my desk that needed to be solved."  
  
Neal was getting impatient with the story. Spending the past few years in a small cell, he didn't feel like listening to the whining of an FBI agent who didn't get everything he wanted. "If you're trying to convince me-"  
  
"I think Kate was Keller's accomplice." Peter dropped the bomb.  
  
The words had the desired effect. Neal's eyes went wide. He drew in his breath. But after a second he shook his head, and laughed lightly. "Peter, your desperation is showing. Kate would never be involved with a guy like Keller."  
  
Peter hated having to do this, but there was no way out of it. "Tell me, Neal. When did Kate start coming round to visit you?"  
  
The FBI agent let a few silent seconds pass by before he continued. "March of last year, I arrested Keller."  
  
He produced a file. A very thin file this time. He opened it up on the table. There were only two pieces of photocopied paper in it. Peter flipped it around so Neal could read it. "This is from the visitor's log. Kate's first time to see you." Peter's finger came down on a line about halfway down the page.  
  
But Neal didn't need to see the file. Kate had first come to see him March 21st. On his birthday. She had told him she had missed him.  
  
"And from that point on she came by to see you every Sunday. Like clockwork."  
  
Neal's eyes met Peter's. His jaw set firmly.  
  
Peter flipped the page, and his finger traveled down the rows. "Keller had signed a plea bargain, and his lawyers agreed to place him in Sing Sing. He was transferred here on June 1st. Sunday after that was June 3rd. Kate came to visit you. But guess who she sat down with before your turn came."  
  
Neal didn't bother looking down at the penciled in information. "You're lying."  
  
"Look at it, Neal."  
  
But Neal refused to do so. He turned to the guard. "Take me back to my cell."  
  
The guard looked at Peter, who shook his head. "I know this is hard to take, Neal, but they were playing you all along. They knew you'd do anything for Kate, and they-"  
  
"No!" Neal jumped to his feet.  
  
Peter didn't let that phase him. "-They counted on you being gullible enough-"  
  
Neal's fist came down on the table. "Stop!" He grabbed the file and flung it across the room.  
  
The guard took a step towards them, but Peter held out his hand. "Wait." Then, to Neal, "Sit down."  
  
Neal hesitated, but then slowly sat back down as ordered. "You're lying," Neal repeated, his voice now betraying little of his emotions.  
  
"You know me. You know Keller. Who do you think is lying here?"  
  
Neal had no response to that one.  
  
"Whose idea was it to escape, Neal? Was it Keller's?"  
  
Again, Neal remained silent.  
  
Peter pushed his chair back and stood up, rounding the table to stand right over Neal. He leaned down, putting his face in Neal's personal space. "Who do you think tipped the guards to search your cell, Neal? Who?"  
  
The tip that Neal Caffrey had contraband in his cell had come in 'anonymous', but Peter could guess who was behind it.  
  
Peter continued his attack. "Keller never planned on you coming along with him. If you want to protect him... if you want to take the punishment for what he did, I can't do anything about it. But you better know  _exactly_  who you're taking the fall for."  
  
Peter straightened up, gauging how successful his shock treatment was, but with Neal it was hard to know. The kid kept his cards close to his chest.  
  
"Take him back to his cell," Peter instructed the guard, and with no further word, left the room.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Peter had tried to throw him off balance - and he had succeeded. For a long moment after the cell door banged shut behind him, Neal simply stood there, unsure what to do. Keller had played him like the mark that he was. Planting the thought of an escape plan, then letting Neal think it had been his idea all along.  
  
Kate's letter. He pulled it out, his eyes scanning the handwritten words. He had thought this was love, but now the words, imprinted in his mind, mocked him.  
  
He had a lighter hidden away. A minute later, the letter was going up in smoke. He held it as the fire made its way down to his fingers, then threw the remains into the sink.  
  
He looked at the ashes for a long minute. He still couldn't believe that Kate had schemed against him. That she had written all those things,  _said_  all those things, for the sole purpose of enabling Keller to make a run for it.  
  
Neal looked at his face, reflected in the broken mirror above the sink.  
  
His first night in prison, Neal hadn't slept at all. Up until the moment when the jury spokesperson stood up and pronounced him guilty of fraud, he had truly believed he would get away with it. True, Burke had some evidence against him, but it was all circumstantial. Neal's biggest fear had been that the FBI agent had discovered Neal's signature on the bonds and would produce it towards the end of the trial in a "ha-ha!" moment. But Burke hadn't figured that one out. And despite that, the jury had found him guilty.  
  
Neal had spent the weeks since his arrest in lockup, but his first night in Sing Sing was different. Now he was a convict, not a suspect 'innocent until proven guilty'. This was a maximum security prison, and he was going to spend the next four years of his life here.  
  
His second night wasn't any better. He laid on his bunk in the darkness and closed his eyes, but sleep eluded him.  
  
By the third night, he was too tired to think. He didn't care about the harsh lights - the minute the cell door closed behind him, he dropped onto his bunk and into a fitful sleep.  
  
Which didn't last long.  
  
Not five minutes later, he was roughly shaken awake by two guards who'd entered his cell. "Hands on your head! Face the wall!" they shouted at him as they dragged him up and pushed him against the wall.  
  
One of the guards searched him, while the other checked the cell. "Hey, what are these?" he pointed at the count-off on the wall. So far Neal had managed two short lines.  
  
Neal didn't realize the question was aimed at him until one of the guards slapped him on the back of the head. "I asked you a question, Caffrey. Over there, what are those?"  
  
Neal glanced in the direction he was pointing. "I'm counting the days till I'm out of here."  
  
The two guards chuckled at that.  
  
Neal had spent his many free hours, locked up in his cell, sketching. He sketched the past he had lost. He sketched the Côte d'Azur, where he had thought of settling down in a little villa by the Mediterranean. He sketched the park, where he had thought of proposing to Kate. And he sketched Kate.  
  
He kept the notebook under his pillow, where the guard quickly located it. He flipped through the notebook. "The kid's got talent. What a waste," he muttered.  
  
But the guard's attention was already focused on something else. "Hey, look at this." He let out a low whistle. "She's going straight up on my wall."  
  
Neal turned around, but before he could say a word, he was pushed back. "I told you to face the wall!"  
  
The other guard piped in. "You want to end up in solitary, Caffrey?"  
  
Neal gritted his teeth, and forced himself to turn back and face the wall.  
  
"I didn't hear you. You've got a problem, Caffrey?"  
  
Neal shook his head.  
  
The guard cupped Neal's cheek, then gave it a squeeze, "That's right. You follow orders, and we're going to get along." The both left, with Neal's notebook.  
  
That was the last time Neal had ever drawn Kate in prison.  
  
  
Neal got his shaving kit and started snipping away at his beard.  
  
  
*****  
  
Sitting in the warden's office, Peter wondered whether he had completely misread Neal. He had been sure he could get Neal to help him, but it had been an hour since he last spoke to Neal, and so far... nothing.  
  
Haskley, for his part, wasn't helping. He hadn't thought talking with the prisoner would help, and didn't think so now. And he now had somebody else to blame if Keller managed to escape.  
  
But Peter's self-doubts were about to end. A knock at the door, and a guard entered. "Sir, Neal Caffrey says he wants to talk to Agent Burke."  
  
  
  
Peter couldn't help the surprised look on his face when Neal was marched in. He had shaved and combed his hair down. He looked much younger now. Far more genuine.  
  
"I'll help you catch Keller," Neal stated.  
  
Peter tried to stay serious, but he couldn't help smiling at the young man. "Smart choice."  
  
But Neal wasn't finished. "If you agree to two things."  
  
Haskley shook his head. "You don't get to make dema-"  
  
But Peter held up a hand to stop him. "What is it?"  
  
"You let Kate go."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I'll be released into your custody." Neal looked at Peter expectantly.  
  
But once again, Warden Haskley interrupted. "Unacceptable. This prisoner is an escape risk."  
  
Peter turned towards Haskley. "Warden, if Caffrey can help me find Keller-"  
  
"That's a very big 'if', Burke. What's more likely is that Caffrey here had planned a prison-break and will plan another one first chance he gets."  
  
Truth was, Haskley had a point. But Peter had a feeling that with Kate gone, he could trust Neal. Despite the warden's protestations, he shook Neal's hand. "You've got a deal."  
  
  
  
It wasn't the con Neal had planned. In fact, he wasn't even sure it was a con at all. But that day, Neal walked out of Sing Sing.


End file.
